


Mothers, Sons, Daughter

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Story of Three Boys [26]
Category: Glee
Genre: Brothership, Gen Fic, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-18
Updated: 2011-10-20
Packaged: 2017-10-24 18:13:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 40,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt shows brotherly support, Finn has Badger pride! Wronree, safe sex, and all the things that parents are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Teaser

Burt’s eyes flicker up into the rearview mirror to look at Finn in the back seat, seemingly preoccupied with whatever-it-is game he’s playing on his phone. Burt and Carole have been having a great time on the drive--they don’t get to take road trips often, between their work schedules--and Burt can tell that Carole has been working to keep the discussion light and the topics relatively safe.

Carole looks over at Burt and smiles, casting her own look towards the backseat for a moment before turning her attention back to the front of the sedan. “I think it’ll be nice to have Rina, Noah, and Hannah over for Thanksgiving, don’t you? I’ve always enjoyed making a lot of food for Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah, I guess we may as well get used to it,” Burt says, resigned. “I imagine we’re gonna have quite a few Thanksgivings together in the future. May as well start now.”

Carole shakes her head a little, smiling slightly. “Oh, you don’t have to be such a grumpy gus about it, Burt.”

“I’ll grump all I want,” Burt huffs. “I don’t like...what’s going on. Puckerman’s a nice enough kid, but Kurt’s too young for, for that kind of seriousness.”

“Out of curiosity, what _would_ be old enough?”

“College? Twenty-five? Thirty?” Burt suggests. “Never? Or never enough that I don’t ever, ever have to know about it. Maybe after I die.”

“Oh, honey.” Carole smiles sympathetically. “I think you know that isn’t going to happen.” She glances into the backseat again and lowers her voice a bit. “Did you talk to Kurt?”

“Yeah, I talked to him. He ‘fessed up and everything,” Burt sighs. “It’s just, he’s always been such a sweet kid, like a little boy, even after he started high school. He was so proper and fancy about his clothes, and hated talking about anything like that, and now he’s...he’s...you know.”

“I think he’s still pretty proper and fancy about his clothes!” Carole points out.

“I guess I just thought that all those weird buckles and zippers and stuff might work kinda like a chastity belt or something,” Burt says, glumly.

“Mmm, I’m pretty sure those went out of style a few centuries ago. Not to mention they were for girls.” Carole shakes her head. “As long as they’re being... responsible, I don’t know that we have that much call to worry, really.”

“Just, Kurt would have to be really serious about a guy to, you know, and there’s the Friday night dinner thing, and,” Burt sighs. “Well, what if he gets hurt? What if they get to New York and this all falls apart, and I have to drive out there and put all the pieces back together, and then Kurt’s all crushed and--”

“Stop, Burt,” Carole commands. “First of all, you and I _both_ know that sometimes, bad things happen in life. But we get up and we keep going. Of course Kurt’s always going to be your baby, but... but...” She sniffs a little. “They’re going to have to learn to pick up their own pieces, soon.”

“I worry about him. I worry about him going off into the world,” Burt confesses. “It’s different with Finn. You’ll worry about him, but I mean. Look at him. The world’s not gonna hate him for something he can’t help, they’re not gonna judge him for the person he loves, for wanting to have a normal life.” Burt coughs a little, trying to hold back emotion. “It’s not even about Puckerman. It’s just one more thing for everybody out there to hate my kid about.”

“Or it’s someone who’s _there_ when the world judges him,” Carole says gently. “And while New York is a big city, can you honestly tell me there’s a _better_ city for him? Except maybe San Francisco, I guess.” She shrugs helplessly.

“Great, now I gotta worry that he’ll change his mind and wanna move out to California?” Burt groans.

“I doubt it; Prop 8 is still on the books.”

Burt sighs. “Well, I can’t be grateful about that, even if it’ll keep my kid on the eastern side of the country.”

“I’m pretty sure New York has other draws, anyway,” Carole says lightly.

“Bars and nightclubs.”

“I was thinking more about the shows and the shopping, Burt. Remember, this is Kurt we’re discussing.”

“Shows, shopping, _and_ bars and nightclubs,” Burt grumbles. “You don’t know what he’ll be like once he gets to New York.”

“No,” Carole admits. “And neither do you. I do know that I can’t imagine Noah wanting to share, so at least you have one less worry in that regard.”

Burt just hmphs at Carole. “Well, that’s something, at least.”

“Burt,” Carole says gently. “Is it really Noah, or even the...other activities that’s bothering you?”

“I’m just not ready for him to go,” Burt answers, softly. “It was just me and him for so long.”

“I know,” Carole replies, equally soft, reaching across the seat to cover Burt’s hand with hers. “Believe me, I know.” She shrugs slightly. “You’re just having to confront it a little earlier, I think.”

“Why can’t we just freeze them when they’re small and sweet and all it takes to fix their problems is a Barbie Band-aid and a hug?” Burt sighs.

“Because then we wouldn’t get the pleasure of watching them succeed.”

“Why do you always have to make so much sense?”

“So that you can return the favor in a few more months,” Carole laughs ruefully.

“That I can do,” Burt nods, smiling at Carole. “I’m a lucky man, you know that?”

“No more lucky than I am,” Carole smiles back.

 

Well, Leroy would like to say he’s surprised, and to an extent, he is, but when he sees Noah and Kurt together, it all makes such a tremendous amount of sense that Leroy can’t even muster much more than a little startle and a laugh.

Leroy has been suspicious since that day in the car at Rosh Hashanah, when he asked Noah if he were texting a girlfriend and that brief look of shock and revulsion crossed Noah’s face. In the moment, Leroy worried it was the manifestation of his own idle Temple musings, and that he was projecting the ghost of Rina’s own distrust of relationships onto Rina’s son. Since then, though, Leroy has been paying attention.

Rachel never seems to just talk about Kurt these days. It’s always Kurt and Noah this, Noah and Kurt that. There’s been no explicit, or even implicit, mention of a romantic relationship, but the two boys always seem to be presented as such a package deal that it’s already hard for Leroy not to imagine them as one. Couple that with a few comments Rina has made to Leroy and Hiram over the past few months, and it wasn’t hard for Leroy to draw up a sketchy conclusion.

Still, it’s a bit of a shock to actually see it there in front of him. Kurt and Noah are so different from each other in many ways, but then, who would have looked at Leroy and Hiram all those years ago and said, “Yes, these two. These two are the ones who belong together.” It’s lucky for Leroy and Hiram that nobody else gets to make that decision based on what they see or think they know; it’s lucky for Noah and Kurt in that same way.

Now they’ll be going to New York together, those lucky boys, and Leroy feels happiness and no small amount of jealousy that they’ll be in a place where their love has legal standing to go along with the feeling in their hearts. Leroy has one more reason to be glad Rachel will be flying off to that glittering city; this is a story to which Leroy must, absolutely must, hear the ending.


	2. Patterns/Questions/Common Interests (a 3x10 bonus fic)

I. Patterns

Dave likes patterns. He’s pretty sure that’s why he likes math and wants to do architecture. He likes to sit in the same seat in every class. He uses the same locker for football this year that he used last year, and it’s the same number he uses for hockey. When he goes to PFLAG meetings, which are actually something he really looks forward to, he sits in the same chair every week.

So when he walks into the meeting and Casey is sitting in the chair next to his, Dave can’t help but smile a little at him. He nods vaguely in the direction of Puckerman and Kurt and then remembers to pull the _Sandman_ out of his backpack to exchange it for the next one. “These are great,” Dave says, and Casey’s about to respond when Ms. Pillsbury tells Kurt it’s time to get started, looking really uncomfortable.

Ohhh. Right, Kurt’s going to be talking about safe gay sex. Dave can’t help but shift a little in his seat. Yeah, this could get uncomfortable for a lot of people.

The first thing Kurt does, though, is pass around a handout, so that gives all of them something to focus on. Dave skims the headings. None of them are really surprising, per se, except for the fact that four of the ten are actually about STIs, no matter what they’re headed, and three are about substance use and abuse. Dave’s pretty sure that means that most of the stuff is cultural, nothing inherent to just _being gay_ , but hell, what does he know? He’s just the closeted football player.

He can’t help asking the question he asks. What’s wrong with not sleeping with every gay guy around? Not that Dave knows of any that are interested, anyway, but even if they were lining up around the block, he’s pretty sure he’d just have his dad bolt the door.

The rest of the meeting is interesting... _very_ interesting, actually, and it takes a lot for Dave to maintain a mask of studied disinterest. He has _lots_ of questions, and it’s clear to Dave, anyway, that Kurt is not just parroting what he’s read.

When everyone’s leaving and starting to put away their chairs and toss out their trash, Dave can’t resist one last question, though he’s pretty sure no one can tell who’s asking, and Kurt’s affronted response is all the answer Dave needs. At least some of the visual aids were _not_ purchased just for the meeting.

Dave waits at the doorway for just a moment and then Casey walks up, and Dave grins as they walk towards Mr. Grecoe’s classroom. “How’s the extra credit project going?”

 

II. Questions

Casey always has so many questions. _Too_ many questions and not enough sense when to stay quiet about them, his mom says. Too many dumb, irritating questions, and what the hell do you even want to know about that anyway, are you some kinda little pussy asking all those damn questions all the damn time, his dad says. Casey has a lot of questions, and not nearly enough answers, and today’s PFLAG meeting is nothing _but_ answers, so of course Casey’s excited.

Well, ok, that’s not the _only_ reason why Casey’s excited. He has a _friend_ to sit with in PFLAG now, a giant, handsome football playing _friend_ to share comic books with and talk about math. And if Casey’s developing the teensiest, tiniest bit of a crush on David, it’s not like he’s ever doing to _say_ anything to David about it! Casey would never, ever, ever want to make David uncomfortable. David treats Casey like a _guy_ , not a threat or a nuisance. It’s just so nice to have a guy friend, even a straight guy friend, to talk to and email with, and sometimes even sit with at lunch.

When David arrives, he doesn’t seem annoyed that Casey took the seat next to his. Dave looks happy, and he immediately pulls out the second _Sandman_ volume to swap out for the third. Ms. Pillsbury is telling Kurt he can get started, so Casey just whispers, “Hope you like this one,” as he exchanges _Dream Country_ for _The Doll’s House_ , though he doesn’t know if Dave even hears him. As he waits for the intros to get around to his spot in the circle, Casey almost buzzes with nervous excitement, and everyone shares a friendly laugh over Casey’s enthusiastic introduction. He feels warm and happy and _safe_.

Safe enough to ask questions. He’s not the only one who’s curious, either; even David asks a question, which just makes Casey that much bolder, and ask the _really_ embarrassing stuff. All kinds of questions. “That should be obvious” questions and questions he suspects some of the other guys in the room might secretly like to know the answers to, too.

By the time Kurt, whom Casey has decided is like some kind of brilliant gay guru, finishes answering his questions, Casey feels simultaneously relieved (at the answers) and mortified (that he not only asked the questions, but that David was sitting _right there_ while he asked). Casey tries to curb his embarrassment by watching Kurt and Puck, noticing how nobody else notices, and it makes Casey feel special to be included in such a tiny circle of people who _know_. He _belongs_ somewhere; that stuff about a ‘gay community’ isn’t just hot air.

Kurt suggests that Casey stay after for some links, but really, Casey’s kind of reached the limit of information that he can process without his brain exploding into bright glitter all over the place. Also, he can’t help but keep glancing over at David, and feeling bad that his friend is sitting through this rather detailed discussion about gay sex. David doesn’t look any more uncomfortable than anyone else, but it’s got to feel a little weird, sort of like it felt weird for Casey to have to sit through sex ed class and hear all that stuff about human reproduction that he’d already figured out by that point didn’t have much relevance for him.

When David stands up to leave, Casey follows him, because he feels like he should go ahead and apologize to David for all those questions, before David has time to really think over what he’s heard and realize that Casey not only asks a lot of dumb questions, but that Casey is most definitely _gay_. So far, Casey being gay hasn’t been any kind of an issue between the two of them, but after a whole class session of gay sex talk?

David pauses in the doorway, waiting for Casey to catch up, and as they head out the door in the direction of Casey’s math class, David says, “How’s the extra credit project going?”

 

III. Common Interests

“How’s the extra credit project going?” Dave thinks maybe he sounds a little too upbeat given that they just walked out of a meeting on safe sex that most of the room seemed to find uncomfortable, but well, Dave’s glad he heard some of it.

“Oh, um, it’s going pretty good,” Casey says, fidgeting with his backpack a little. “All your help has been, just, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“It was fun.” Dave shrugs. “I know, I know, I shouldn’t admit to liking math, but.”

Casey laughs a little, but bright pink spots have appeared on his cheeks. “So, um...I’m _sorry_ about my questions in there,” he says, all in one breath. “That was probably really uncomfortable to sit next to, and I didn’t think about what I was saying, and then I realized, _ohmigod_ , poor David, and--”

“It was fine,” Dave interrupts him, looking over at Casey, puzzled. Then it dawns on him. “Oh. _Oh_. Yeah, um. About that.” He scratches his head almost nervously. “I, uh, was just as interested as you were. If, um, you know what I mean.”

Casey’s face squishes up like Dave is a puzzle and Casey can’t find the edge pieces. “Um. No?”

Dave looks around and notices the hallways are emptying rapidly, and he gently tugs Casey towards an alcove where a water fountain used to sit, back in freshman year. He’s pretty sure Az or Puckerman or Hudson sat on it and broke it off the wall. Figgins never replaced it. “I’m sorry, I just...” He snorts. “I forgot you didn’t know. I’m gay.”

Casey cocks his head to the side and he blinks his wide eyes, his mouth forming a perfect surprised circle, and with the weird hat on his head, he looks like one of the mice from _Cinderella_. “Oh,” he says. “Oh. I. Really?”

“Really.” Dave tries not to laugh, but he’s pretty sure he’s at least grinning a little. “Remember my ‘personal issues’ that I referenced before?”

Casey nods, but his eyes and mouth stay completely round, like he can’t shake the shock off his face. “Oh!” he repeats, his voice squeakier than usual, which emphasises the cartoon mouse resemblance. The little pink points return to his cheeks and gradually grow until Casey’s face looks like one of those signs for that clothing store at the mall, at which point, Casey starts to giggle. “Oh!” he says again, and if it were possible to turn any pinker, he probably would.

“It’s not that funny,” Dave protests, but he’s laughing, too. Casey nods his head vigorously, to indicate that yes, it is that funny, but he can’t really get out any more words because he’s giggling so hard. Finally, Casey takes a deep breath, snorts half of it through his nose, and then takes another deep breath, calming down a little.

“Oh my,” Casey says. “I had _no_ idea, David!”

Dave shrugs. “I just... I don’t know. I told a few people over the summer, but.”

Casey nods. “Do, um, do your parents?” His body tenses a little and he stops giggling.

“It’s just my dad. Mom left a long time ago. But yeah, Dad knows. I think he was really surprised at first, but he’s been pretty cool about it.”

Casey seems to relax, his shoulders dropping a little, and he breathes a small sigh. “Oh, that’s really good, then,” he says. “That’s good, that you can talk to him. That’s...yes, that’s really good.”

Dave decides not to press, and downplays it a little. “Well, I can’t _talk_ talk to him, but yeah, it’s good.” He starts to say something else, but the bell blares just above their heads then.

Casey startles like some kind of little woodland creature. “Oh! I had better go! I was so late after the last meeting, and I don’t want my teachers to say, I mean, Mr. Grecoe is cool and I shouldn’t miss his class!” He hikes his backpack back up on his shoulder, and then gives Dave a long look. “Thank you, though. For telling me.”

“I’ll see you at lunch Thursday?”

“ _Definitely_ ,” Casey says, then his cheeks go pink again. “I mean, yeah, of course,” he corrects himself, with forced nonchalance. He gives Dave a small, enigmatic smile before dashing down the hallway and into his classroom.


	3. Episode 3x10a: Finn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt shows brotherly support. Finn has Badger pride!

The drive to Wisconsin is long and uneventful. Burt and Carole keep up an energetic discussion on politics, colleges, their respective jobs, and, Finn suspects, a veiled conversation about Kurt and Puck’s sex life, which they don’t start until Finn has put in his earbuds. Hunched over in his seat--necessary, because Finn’s way too tall for the standard length headphone cords--Finn listens to the playlist he’s been working on for the last few weeks and occasionally shoots a text to Rachel (who replies quickly and enthusiastically), to Puck (who either doesn’t reply at all or replies in single words, probably sulking over Kurt being gone), or one of the other glee guys (Mike’s replies are so abbreviated as to be nearly unreadable, Mercedes texts back from Sam’s phone to tell Finn to leave them alone, and Artie just types, for some reason Finn can’t ascertain, “HOLLA!”).

They stop right before they merge onto I-90 and again for a long lunch just outside of Chicago, but the rest of the drive is boring. Finn plays Angry Birds for over an hour, reads almost the entire survival guide he downloaded (which is totally interesting, but Finn’s not sure he’ll ever have a real need for differentiating between dangerous fish and the regular kind), exchanges another few texts with Rachel, listens to his playlist another four times, and then opens Safari to look for a song that will fit his ‘out of the box’ assignment for glee.

Since “I’ve Gotta Be Me” is the closest thing Finn’s ever done to one of the crooners, he settles on that category as the best choice, because, well, otherwise he’s gonna end up doing Broadway, and he’d rather leave that to Kurt. After reading through some options and listening to examples on YouTube, Finn finally settles on “Mack the Knife,” because it’s about a shark and sharks are awesome.

They finally roll up to the hotel at around 2:30 local time, though Finn has a hard time with timezones and isn’t sure if he’s suppose to feel more or less hungry because of the time change. While Burt checks them in, Finn and his mom stand around in the lobby, because if Finn has to spend one more minute in the car, he’s going to probably strain something.

“Isn’t this just lovely?” Carole looks around the lobby. “So nice. We get a free breakfast in the morning, by the way, Finn.”

“There’s a pool, right?” Finn asks, peering around a mirrored column to get a better look at the layout.

“With a whirlpool,” Carole confirms. “Doesn’t that just sound heavenly? Oh, and look, Finn,” she gestures to a brochure in her hand. “There’s a fitness center, too.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna be working out with the team, mom,” Finn says. “I don’t think I need to workout at the hotel, too.”

“You never know,” Carole says mildly. “Besides, it would be good for Burt and I to use the treadmill one of these days we’re here.” She smiles at Burt as he approaches.

“All right, we’re on the second floor. Finn, you and Kurt are across from us. I think we should go check out the rooms and unload and then maybe check out that pool. We’ve got five hours before we have to be over at the university.”

“You talked to Kurt?” Finn asks. “I didn’t wanna text him while he was driving, but I don’t remember what time he thought he’d be here.”

“He left a little before ten,” Burt replies. “And he called a bit ago, was outside Chicago. I figure he’ll be here around 4:30. Their time.” Burt shakes his head, like he’s confused about the time zones, too.

“Time is weird,” Finn says, sympathetically, with a knowing nod. “But yeah, let’s get the bags up and then we’ll figure it out. What am I supposed to wear to this thing tonight?”

“Ooh, it says on here,” Carole replies, digging into her purse. “Let’s see... ‘business casual.’ No tie, sweetie.”

“Sweet!” Finn says, with a victorious fist-pump into the air. No tie is always good news.

Finn helps Burt and his mom carry the bags up to their rooms, and then swipes his own key card three times before he manages to do it at the right speed and in the right direction to make the little light turn green and unlock the door. The first thing Finn does when he gets into the room is to fling himself onto the closest queen-sized bed, face first. The bed make a loud thunk, but doesn’t shift in place or collapse, so Finn calls it a win. The best part about being there first is getting his choice of bed, though, so he hauls himself up and repeats his fall onto the other bed. The thunk’s a little louder and the bed shakes a bit, so bed number one it is!

After about ten minutes, Carole knocks on the door. “Finn? Are you unpacked yet?”

“Uh, sure?” Finn calls from where he’s still faceplanted on the bed. 7 am is early, ok? He’s tired. “Still got a few things to put away. Is it food time?”

“Pool time,” Carole says. “We’ll go eat in an hour or so.”

“Let me get my suit on. I’ll be right out.” Finn pushes himself up off the bed, remembering that he needs to text Rachel and tell her he’s there safely.

_here safe & miss u <3 _

Boyfriendly duties done, Finn strips out of his travel clothes and cranks up the room heat, enjoying a few minutes of warm air and naked time, something he doesn’t usually indulge in at home, because there’s just always someone _there_ , and even if his door is closed, Finn has always sort of suspected that he somehow _sounds_ naked. Finally, he rifles through his not at all unpacked suitcase until he finds his swimsuit and tugs it on, tossing on one of his McKinley Titans tees and sliding on the pair of beat-up blue flip flops he packed on Kurt’s insistence that walking barefoot around public pools is unhygienic.

“Ready!” Finn chirps as he closes the room behind him, remembering at the last minute that bringing the key card is probably a good idea. “Oops,” he says, looking abashed, as he darts in to grab the card and then right back out again. His mom laughs and Burt rolls his eyes a little, then they head down to the pool and enjoy the rare pleasure of swimming in November.

Carole spends more of her time in the whirlpool than the actual pool, and then rather giddily orders a pop which a hotel employee brings to her while she sits next to the pool. Finn, tired of swimming laps, flings his wet body into a chair next to her. “Can we eat now?”

“I guess it is getting close to our normal dinnertime, isn’t it? We can go get ready to eat, sure,” Carole agrees, waving at Burt, who’s engrossed in a conversation with one of the other hotel guests. He finishes the conversation after a minute, shaking hands with the other guy, and walks over.

“Ready to eat?” he asks, and Carole confirms with a nod.

“I was ready when we _got_ here,” Finn adds. Burt chuckles.

“I think I saw something about a place with really great burgers around the corner. Sound good?”

“Burgers are always good,” Finn says, walking to the door into the pool area, then dashing back to the table where he’s left his key card. He’s not used to those things.

“You should put that in your wallet when we get back to the room, son.”

“I didn’t want to bring my wallet down to the pool,” Finn explains. “It might get wet and I’ve got my Joey’s card in there. I only need one more stamp!”

“Right.” Burt nods. “Still.”

“Once I’m back in the room, first thing,” Finn promises. They split off into their separate rooms, where Finn actually takes the clothes from his suitcase and more or less arranges them in the provided dresser. He slides on a pair of jeans, pulls on a t-shirt, and then wrestles a heavy cable-knit sweater on over the t-shirt. Finn finds his wallet and slips the keycard inside, the puts the wallet into his back pocket, patting it once to make sure it’s actually there, because sometimes he remembers putting the wallet into his pocket, only it didn’t really happen.

There’s a heavy knock on the door. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Finn calls out, heading to the door. “I’m starving!” he adds, grinning at his mom and Burt. The walk to the burger place is short, which is good, because it’s colder in Madison than it is at home. The food is good and without Kurt’s watchful eye, Burt orders a bacon cheeseburger, winking at Finn conspiratorially.

When they get back to the hotel, Finn can tell immediately that Kurt’s arrived. There are clothes hanging up now and two no-doubt empty pieces of luggage on the luggage rack. Plus Kurt’s various bottles are around the sink, his laptop is plugged in on the desk, and there’s an extra throw blanket on the far bed. There’s also a note on top of the laptop that says “Gone to the pool, please don’t turn the heat down!”

“Dude’s like a little snake or something,” Finn mutters to himself and then pulls out his phone and dials Rachel.

“Finn! Are you having a wonderful time?”

“I swam in the pool,” Finn says. “It’s inside. I mean, it would have to be to swim in it. It’s _cold_ here!”

“Oh, that sounds so nice! I just got home from rehearsing with the other girls for our performance tomorrow. I’m so sorry that you and Kurt will miss it! I’ll ask Noah to video it for us and that way I can send it to you!”

“Hey, yeah, I’d really like that,” Finn says, and actually means it. He doesn’t care what song they’re doing and he could give or take seeing the other girls perform, since he already sees that a few days a week at this point, but he honestly hates missing a chance to watch Rachel sing. “I miss you already, you know.”

Rachel makes a little dreamy-sounding sigh. “I miss you too. Rehearsal tonight just won’t be the same.”

“You’ll just have to keep them on track,” Finn says, encouragingly. “Don’t let Puck lay around sulking about Kurt not being there. I mean, I’ll be gone for _way_ longer than Kurt will. I sent the notes to Mike, so you can ask him for them and make sure everybody’s doing what they’re supposed to do. You know Mike sometimes gets distracted by Tina’s...um, enthusiasm.”

“Oh, of course,” Rachel says solemnly. “Everyone is much more committed than they once were, but we could still use a little more discipline.”

“Well, it’s hard not to get distracted when you’ve got an awesome girlfriend,” Finn says. “I should know, ‘cause you distract me all the time.” He smiles, even though Rachel can’t see it. “Oh, hang on, I think I hear Kurt coming in.”

Kurt swipes the card once, shivering, and sighs contentedly when the blast of heat hits him as he opens the door. “Finn?” he calls, walking straight into the bathroom.

“Yeah, I’m in here on the phone,” Finn answers. Turning back to the phone, he says, “Yeah, that’s Kurt. I probably should go so we can figure out what we’re doing. Can I call you before bed?”

“Of course,” Rachel answers, and it sounds like she’s beaming. “Have a great time tonight!”

“Sure will, and Rach? I love you, ok?”

“I love you, too,” she replies sweetly. “Bye, Finn.”

Kurt pushes the bathroom door almost closed, open enough that he can still hear Finn, and turns the shower on. Chlorine does awful, awful things to his hair if he doesn’t get it out, quickly. “Good trip up?” he calls.

“Boring trip,” Finn complains. “I’m glad I put some new music on my phone, but you know, it’s still a long drive.”

“It is,” Kurt agrees, stepping into the shower before stripping off his swimsuit.

“Drive up ok for you?”

“I stopped outside of Chicago and again in Janesville. Bustling town, that,” Kurt says with a roll of his eyes, soaping up. “You guys went swimming too?”

“Yeah. Well, I went swimming, my mom mostly sat in the hot tub, and your dad spent almost the whole time talking to some other guy he met down by the pool,” Finn explains, talking loudly to be heard over the running water.

“They have poolside service!” Kurt grins as he rinses off. “I could get used to that. Also room service. Dinner was surprisingly good.” It’s probably about the shortest shower that Kurt’s taken in years, but he’s not sure what time it is or what time his dad’s going to want to leave, and he’s got to make sure his hair is dry. Not to mention get dressed. So he turns off the water and wraps one of the complementary robes around him.

“Yeah, mom ordered a pop and thought it was pretty awesome,” Finn says. “Funny how little things like that make her so happy.”

“Oh, I bet she did,” Kurt grins at the mirror. “So what’s this thing tonight? Dad just said ‘all of us should be there,’ so here I am.”

“It’s some kind of social thing? Like a meet and greet, maybe?” Finn makes a noise of confusion. “I don’t know, exactly. I just know it’s business casual and that means I don’t have to wear a tie.”

“What _is_ it with ties?” Kurt mutters. “I just don’t get it. At least you aren’t...” he trails off and opens the door. “Business casual, you said?”

“Yup. And I don’t like stuff around my neck ever since I saw that TV show where the guy’s scarf got caught in the escalator and he strangled to death,” Finn explains.

Kurt blinks. “That’s... a very disturbing story. I hope it was fictional.”

“I think it was a documentary,” Finn muses. “Or maybe that _Thousand Ways to Die_ show. Or the news.”

“I hate you,” Kurt says, without any real heat behind the words.

“Hey, you’re one who’s all about taking risks with fashion,” Finn replies, defensively. “Me, I like to play it safe. No clothes that dangle.”

“Yes, you’re certainly not a fashion risk-taker.” Kurt sighs and walks over to the closet. “Don’t tell Puck that story,” he adds, almost absently.

“I don’t tell Puck stories like that,” Finn says. “He gets too worked up over stuff like that.”

“Mmm.” Kurt nods. “God, this place is cold. It should have been Eskimo chic, not business casual.”

“I think sweaters are probably business casual,” Finn suggests. “You could wear a sweater. Ooh, or we could get you one of those plug in heat rocks like you put in snake cages.”

“Why do people keep insisting on comparing me to a reptile?” Kurt grumbles, finally selecting a pair of pants and a shirt before walking over to the dresser to pull out a sweater as well.

“It’s probably the scales,” Finn says, completely deadpan. “That or the tail.”

“You’re hilarious,” Kurt huffs. “Do you need the bathroom, or...?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Then I’m taking it over,” Kurt smiles sweetly and gathers his clothes before heading towards the bathroom. “We have, what, 45 minutes?”

“Something like that. Or an hour and 45 minutes. I can’t figure out the timezone thing,” Finn complains.

“Our phones changed timezones automatically,” Kurt calls through the door.

“They do?” Finn responds, feeling a strange wave of panic rising in his chest. “How do they _know_?” He eyes his phone suspiciously, wondering else it might decide to do on its own.

“Satellites.” Kurt sighs as he looks in the mirror. “You owe me, little brother.”

“What? The phones thing isn’t _my_ fault!”

Kurt laughs. “No, for my untimely death of frostbite.”

“Dude,” Finn snorts. “Just put on some gloves or something. You’ll be fine. It’s not _that_ bad. Just think of how cold it’ll be in December or January!”

“I feel so much better,” Kurt says flatly.

Burt knocks on the door twenty-five minutes later. “You boys ready?”

“Just a second, Dad!” Kurt calls back, stepping into a pair of loafers before walking towards the door. “Finn?”

“I was ready a half hour ago. Central time.”

Burt shakes his head. “Right. Well, let’s go. Don’t want to be late!”

“This looks like so much fun,” Carole adds. “Don’t you boys look so handsome!”

“Mom!” Finn whines. “Just don’t say stuff like that once we get there!”

“Thank you,” Kurt replies, smiling graciously. “I just hope we’ll all be warm enough. Are we walking?”

“The university’s sending a shuttle,” Burt replies with a sharp nod. “Should be down there now.”

“Awesome! Let’s do this!” Finn says, with gusto.

 

The shuttle is, in fact, waiting, and it’s a relatively short ride to the athletic building, where other uncomfortable-looking teenage boys are disembarking with their families. Kurt scans the assembled group and sighs. “Middle schoolers. Middle schoolers, Dad.”

“I’m sure there’s some siblings closer to your age,” Burt argues, clapping Kurt on the back twice. “It’ll be fine. Look, the booklet said after the first fifteen minutes tonight, it’s family socializing.”

Kurt sighs and walks over to the group inside with the sign that says “siblings,” and proceeds to pull out his phone and text Puck. He really should have smuggled Puck in the back of the Nav. The fifteen minutes is vaguely self-congratulatory and clearly aimed at an eighth or ninth grader. Most of the siblings do fall into that age group, and Kurt’s relieved when they enter a larger room with huge tables of food–and the other groups.

 

Finn looms over the room full of middle schoolers, searching for Kurt. When Finn catches sight of him, looking annoyed and holding his mouth in the sort of prissy way he does when he doesn’t care if someone knows that he’s annoyed, Finn pushes his way (carefully) through the crowd of undersized Beiber-wannabees until he gets over to Kurt.

“Having fun?” Finn asks, trying to sound genuinely sympathetic. Mostly he just thinks it’s funny.

“Loads. Simply loads.” Kurt rolls his eyes. “I’ve never seen more somewhat obese boys in polo shirts. Considering our hockey team, that says a lot.”

“Well, maybe they just haven’t grown into their, I dunno, weight yet,” Finn offers. “The guys in with me all seem pretty cool and the session was cool, too. It was like a fifteen minute pep talk about how awesome we are.”

“I think mine was about how proud I should be, that I have a brother worthy of their consideration. Or it could have been about how great Wisconsin is. I’m not really sure,” Kurt admits, shrugging.

“Wisconsin is pretty great,” Finn points out. “They make _cheese_ here, man. Cheese!”

Kurt blinks and shakes his head. “I’m sure it makes for excellent pizza.” He sighs. “Meet anyone interesting?”

Finn shrugs. “We didn’t have a lot of time to talk to each other, but I sat next to a dude from D.C., well, Delaware actually, but I think his dad lives in D.C., who was pretty cool. Robins...Jamie, I think? He’s a wide receiver.”

Kurt grins wickedly. “I love the names of positions in football. Tight end. Wide receiver.”

Finn snorts. “Dude. Seriously? You pick _now_ to point this out?”

“I have to get my fun somehow,” Kurt pouts. “Let’s go find Dad and Carole. Or you can point out this Jamie fellow.”

“Sure, I’ll introduce you to Jamie,” Finn nods and takes off towards the far corner of the room, where a small group of prospective students and their parents are clustered, in conversation. As they approach, a wiry, darker-skinned young man disengages from the group and steps out to offer Finn a fistbump, which Finn returns enthusiastically.

“Hey man,” Finn says, hauling Kurt forward by the sleeve of his sweater. “This is my big brother, Kurt.” Finn smiles broadly at Jamie, but however friendly Finn might seem, this introduction is a test by which Jamie will be measured.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Kurt says smoothly, offering his hand to shake.

Jamie gives Finn a brief confused look. “You too,” he says, taking Kurt’s hand and giving it a healthy shake. “Big brother?”

“By five months,” Kurt smirks a little.

“Adoption or marriage,” Jamie asks, without so much as a blink.

“Well, my mom married his dad,” Finn offers, “but then we sort of adopted each other.” He gives Kurt a huge grin, because that’s probably the best way to describe it.

Kurt’s smirk breaks into a genuine smile and he nods, agreeing with Finn’s statement.

“Cool, cool,” Jamie nods, also smiling. “I’ve got two little sisters, seven months apart. My parents adopted them from China, but we’re always having to explain that no, they’re not twins, but yeah, they’re in the same grade. Bet you guys run into that all the time, huh?”

“Oh, how old?” Kurt breaks in. “And on occasion, yes.”

“Alyssa's twelve and Gail is thirteen going on forty-two,” Jamie answers, his face lighting up with obvious affection for his sisters. “She’s one of those old souls you hear about. Kind of an odd man out, but,” he shrugs. “You know, we’re a colorful family, so we’re all a little odd.”

“Oh, how nice. I used to want a little sister,” Kurt continues, “but I have Finn now.” He grins. “And, well, Hannah.”

“Is Hannah your sister?” Jamie asks Finn. “I thought you just had the brother.” He nods his head in Kurt’s direction.

Finn can see a quick startled look cross Kurt’s face, and jumps in to answer. “Hannah’s Kurt’s boyfriend’s little sister. She’s eight and hell on wheels.”

Jamie’s reaction to the news about Kurt’s boyfriend is the best possible reaction, a non-reaction. “Oh, that’s a fun age,” Jamie offers, with a sympathetic raise of his eyebrows. “Alyssa was obnoxious at eight. Gail wasn’t as bad, but Alyssa went through this phase where she would talk the paint off a wall. Oh, here, you should meet my dad. Hey, dad!” Jamie reaches out and snags the arm of a man with close cropped hair and a tailored suit that’s anything but business casual.

Finn grins at Kurt’s brief look of surprise as he looks at Jamie with his golden-brown skin and his very pale-complected father. Jamie also notices the look and laughs. “Hey, I said we were colorful,” he explains. “This is my dad, James Robins, senior. Dad, Finn Hudson who I was telling you about and his older brother Kurt.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kurt says, shaking the man’s hand.

“You, too,” Mr. Robins responds, politely. “Your father is Burt Hummel, isn’t he? I met him at the pool earlier today and we had a chance to talk again in our session. Nice to meet you, too, Finn, since we didn’t get a chance to talk at the pool earlier.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Finn says, taking Mr. Robins’s hand.

“There you boys are!” Burt’s voice booms out behind them.

Finn jumps. “Geez, Burt, you scared me!” He turns around to see his mom and Burt standing there, Carole looking proud and a little teary-eyed already, which Finn is pretty sure will only get worse over the next few days.

“Dad,” Kurt says more calmly, nodding to him.

“Having fun?” Burt beams at both of them.

“Definitely,” Finn says, at the same time Kurt answers, “A bit.”

“Burt, this is Jamie,” Finn adds. “You met his dad already. Jamie’s a wide receiver.”

“Nice to meet you,” Burt nods and smiles, offering his hand and shaking Jamie’s hand firmly.

“You, too!” Jamie pumps Burt’s hand up and down. “Finn says you work on cars? That’s really cool.”

“Yeah, own our own shop,” Burt smiles.

“That’s cool. I like seeing how stuff works.”

“A future engineer?” Burt asks.

“Maybe? I’m kinda hoping for future Redskin,” Jamie grins, “but a fallback plan is always good, though I was thinking more like acting.”

“As long as you don’t want to be one of those Bengals,” Kurt says, shaking his head. “I swear, if I meet one more person who hates them.”

“Then you’ll know they’re smart people, kid,” Burt laughs.

“Does anybody like the Bengals?” Jamie asks, quirking one eyebrow. “I mean, seriously?”

“I like this kid, Finn,” Burt says with a wide smile. “You hang on to him.”

 

Kurt can’t help sighing in relief as he unlocks the door to their hotel room. He thinks he acquitted himself well, smiling and making pleasant conversation, but he’s happy to be done for the evening, back in the room, his phone heavy in his pocket.

“Would you like the bathroom first?” Kurt offers politely, though he admits in his mind that he has an ulterior motive.

“Uh, sure,” Finn replies, eying Kurt a little suspiciously. “You sure?”

“Of course.” Kurt does his best to affect innocence, but then abandons it as he walks across the room. “Don’t come out for twenty minutes.”

“Wait? What?” Finn tilts his head like a quizzical dog. “Why can’t I...oh. _Oh_. I, uh. Oh. Seriously, I could just...yeah. Ok, I’ll stay in there for twenty.” He flushes a little and quickly gathers his things, including his phone, and as he walks into the bathroom, Kurt can see Finn pulling up the alarm clock function, presumably to set it for 20 minutes.

“Thank you,” Kurt says sweetly, and then turns his attention to his own phone.

 

Finn waits until the alarm goes off on his phone and then waits another minute and a half after that, slowly getting dressed in the bathroom, leaving the fan on. He hears quiet sounds coming from the room, but intentionally focuses on _not_ hearing them, because he suspects they’re nothing he wants to pay too much attention to.

He rattles the door handle on the bathroom a little more than necessary, and hears Kurt call out, “Are you done already?”

“Yeah, bathroom’s all yours,” Finn says, coming into the room. “I’m gonna watch some TV, I think.”

Kurt’s head is just barely visible over the side of the far bed, and Finn can hear him talking into the phone for a moment longer before he ends the call and tosses his phone on the bed. There’s a little more shifting before Kurt stands up, face just a little flushed. “Good shower?” he asks, tone overly casual.

“Yeeeah,” Finn says, drawing it out as he looks at Kurt. “It was wet and showery. You ok?”

“Mmmhmm,” Kurt hums, nodding and smiling brightly, but he turns a little pink and doesn’t quite meet Finn’s eyes.

“Uh huh,” Finn answers, switching on the TV to give himself a reason to look anywhere other than at Kurt, because he has a sneaking suspicion of what might have happened while he was in the bathroom, and he really, really, _really_ doesn’t want that mental image in his head for the rest of the night. “Go on and get your shower, dude. Day starts early tomorrow.”

“I know,” Kurt sighs, stopping at the dresser and grabbing an armful of something or another. “At least we get two free breakfasts.”

“Breakfast is cool,” Finn nods. “I could eat two or three of ‘em.”

“Besides, catered lunches aren’t always as good. We might need both breakfasts,” Kurt adds as he walks into the bathroom.

“Definitely,” Finn says, mostly to the bathroom door, since Kurt’s closing it behind himself. Finn sighs and shakes his head at the unfairness of life, that Kurt gets _all_ the action. Finn pulls out his phone and dials Rachel.

“Finn! I was just wondering when you’d call,” Rachel exclaims as she answers.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to be so late,” Finn apologizes. “The thing ran longer than I expected and then Kurt, um, banished me to the bathroom for a while.”

“Banished you?” Rachel asks, sounding confused. “What do you mean?”

“Like, sent me away,” Finn explains. “Told me to stay in there for twenty minutes and not come out. He was on the phone...with Puck.”

“Oh. Ohhh.” Rachel giggles in an embarrassed fashion. “So the thing tonight was fun?”

“Yeah, though I think maybe not as much fun as Kurt had in the twenty minutes I was in the bathroom,” Finn jokes. “I met a nice guy named Jamie. I think you’d like him. I mean, if you ever met him.” Finn’s voice, which started out very buoyant, sort of trickles off into nothing by the end of the sentence.

“Oh? Where is he from?” Rachel asks, seemingly determined to ignore the change in Finn’s tone.

“Uh, D.C., or I think maybe Delaware? He’s a wide receiver.” Finn’s tone has become decidedly neutral.

“That’s one of the people that catches, right?”

“Yeah. Receivers catch, Rach. You remembered it right.”

“Is he good? Well, of course he must be, to be there, just like you!”

“I guess,” Finn says, noncommittally. “I haven’t seen him play yet or anything. He’s nice, anyway.”

“That’s good to hear. Oh! Rehearsal went well tonight.”

“Good, that’s good. Everybody stay on track?”

“For the most part, yes. Puck made some crack about ‘the dictator’s orders’ but I think he fully expected me to report that back to you.”

“Heh,” Finn laughs. “He would. Tell him I say that the beatings will continue until morale improves, or something.”

Rachel giggles. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

“So, it’s getting kind of late, and we have an early morning and a _long_ day tomorrow,” Finn says. “I should probably...”

“Yes, oh, completely, you’re right,” Rachel says. “I shouldn’t’ve kept you up so long!”

“Naw, it’s ok. I just, I wanted to hear your voice for a little while.”

“It was good to hear yours, too,” Rachel says softly. “I really missed you at rehearsal.”

“Yeah,” Finn sighs. “I miss you a lot, too. I love you, ok? And I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

“I love you too. I’ll see you then, Finn. Goodnight.”

“Night, Rach,” Finn says, hanging up the phone. He sighs again as he places the phone on the nightstand. “Shit. This sucks.”

 

Kurt doesn’t take as long in the shower as sometimes, since he showered earlier, and he lingers in the bathroom for a few minutes when he hears Finn talking. Still, he walks out, pajama-clad, in time to hear Finn say “Shit. This sucks.”

Kurt puts his clothes into the hotel-provided laundry bag and then sits on the edge of his bed closest to Finn. “You okay?” he asks softly.

Finn sighs so deeply that it almost shakes the bed. “I’m supposed to say yes,” he says, his voice heavy. “That’s the way this is supposed to work.”

“No, the way it’s supposed to work is you tell your brother the truth,” Kurt replies.

“Bleh, I don’t mean with you,” Finn groans, flopping over on the bed to look at Kurt. “It’s just, Rachel. With Rachel. I’m not supposed to talk about it, and she’s not supposed to talk about it, and sometimes it’s gonna come up, like how can it not come up when I’m _here_ , and just, this just _sucks_ , Kurt.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says helplessly. “I don’t know what to tell you, unfortunately.” He frowns. “Neither of you talk about it? At all?”

Finn shakes his head, looking miserable. “No. That’s not how it works. I mean, I went into this knowing it had an expiration date. What’s the use in talking about something that’s gonna happen no matter what? It’ll just mess up the time we have. Anyway, when I even come close to the topic, well...”

“She ignores it?” Kurt guesses, based on his knowledge of Rachel Berry. “Talks about everything but that?”

“Yeah, pretty much that,” Finn answers, propping his face up on his arm as he lies on the bed. “I mean, I was willing to give it all up for one more kiss and now? I sometimes wish I could just go ahead and break it off, so I can start getting used to how bad it hurts now, while I’ve got you guys.”

Kurt moves over to Finn’s bed and pulls him into a loose hug. “Hey. I fully intend to force you to Skype with me at least once a week, little brother. I know you won’t have my awesome cooking to go with it, but...”

“Yeah, that’ll be the worst part,” Finn says, leaning into the hug a little. “Missing out on the cooking.”

“I know. It’s a great tragedy in your life,” Kurt sniffs.

“I guess I could just move to New York with you, right, and...what was it Rachel says you said I’m good at? Moving heavy stuff?” Finn shoots a small, wry smile at Kurt. “Yeah, she tells me stuff, dude.”

“Well, I could hardly admit that I really wanted you around for your height, now could I?” Kurt smirks.

“Yeah, I hope you guys are gonna have room for a good step ladder,” Finn says, shaking his head morosely. “Otherwise, you’ll never be able to reach anything and that’ll be awful.”

“I know.” Kurt tightens his arms around Finn a little. “If it matters, I was hoping for a different outcome when I said that.”

“I think maybe there’s not a lot of good in hoping for specific outcomes,” Finn sighs. “Just...just what if I fail? What if I don’t really find my way or my path or whatever? What if I just spend a few years dicking around with football and don’t have anything important or meaningful to show for it? What if I let her go, and...”

“You won’t fail,” Kurt says, vehement. “And don’t let them put you in a football box. Do other things. Football’s a way to have fun and pay for college, right? That doesn’t mean you should just go to class and play football and not do anything else.”

Finn turns his face towards Kurt and gives him a long, strange look. “Yeah?” he asks, like he’s not even completely sure what he’s asking.

“There’s not a rule about it, is there? I mean, why not keep singing? Or join some other kind of club?”

“You think I could do that? In college? Outside of Lima?” The look on Finn’s face is one of childlike wonder, of exposure to a concept that has literally occurred to him.

“Of course,” Kurt says, looking at him a little oddly. “Why not?”

Finn shakes his head. “I’m just, I mean, I’m Lima good. I’m not college good, am I?”

“Who told you that?” Kurt asks sharply, looking angry.

“What?” Finn asks, breaking from his reverie. “Oh, _I_ told me that. I think it’s kind of obvious. It’s not like you or Rachel, or even Mercedes. And I can’t do the stuff Puck can do. I just figured once high school was over, and glee was over, that was probably it. Back to cars and showers.”

“You are absolutely infuriating at times,” Kurt muses. “What you just said, by the way, makes absolutely no sense. Do I need to explain it to you in detail, or will you just accept that you were wrong, and nod, and repeat after me that your big brother is always right?”

Finn chuckles, a little darkly, but still, it’s a laugh. “Detail would probably make me understand whatever it is you’re talking about, but yeah,” he says, with a nod. “My big brother is always right.”

“Good,” Kurt responds, sounding smug.

“Hey, I can always come back to Lima and be Mr. Schue’s assistant, right?” Finn offers.

“No.”

“Well, I mean, I guess he might have given it up by then,” Finn muses. “And I could just run the whole thing. I have experience. It would take the sting out of coming back, anyway, and I’d always make them start practicing ahead of time.”

“You do realize you could teach or lead a glee club anywhere in the country?”

Finn shrugs. “Yeah, maybe. I mean, maybe I won’t end up here. Maybe I’ll go to Columbus or Cleveland or something.”

Kurt sniffs dramatically. “You just don’t really love me. If you did, you’d want to go to Danbury or Poughkeepsie.”

“What? New York?” Finn laughs. “Yeah, that’s probably not gonna happen. I’m definitely not New York good. They probably get people from the schools you guys want to go to for their glee clubs!”

“Danbury is in Connecticut. And people that go to schools in New York probably can’t afford to pay their student loans if they work coaching glee clubs. Seriously, you don’t even know how much I envy that aspect of your college search.”

“Isn’t Connecticut kind of small?” Finn asks. “I think I’m kind of big for Connecticut. Anyway, you’re gonna get scholarships or something, Kurt. You’re really good. You and Puck both, you’re _really_ good.”

Kurt waves his hand a bit dismissively. “I can hope. And I don’t think there’s a height restriction to live in Connecticut.”

“I’m pretty sure there is, bro. I think I read it on Cracked.”

“Well-sourced,” Kurt says dryly.

“I think they’re always accurate,” Finn nods sagely.

Kurt just shakes his head, snorting back a laugh. “Never change, Finn. Never change.”

Finn sighs. “That’s probably the plan, dude.”

“Stop it,” Kurt scolds, hitting Finn lightly on the side of the head. “I swear. You are impossible.”

Finn gives Kurt a crooked smile, sweet, but tinged with sadness. “Yeah, well. Impossible, that’s me.”

“I think there’s a song about that.”

“Dude, there’s a song about _everything_ , but I’m not singing it. I’m singing ‘Mack the Knife.’”

“Oh, for this week’s assignment?” Kurt grins.

“Totally. It’s out of my box,” Finn says, making a box shape with his hands. “Which, by the way, apparently has more than four sides! Who knew?”

“Shut up,” Kurt mutters, flushing slightly. “I _earned_ my math grade this quarter. _Earned_ it.”

“You’re very good at math,” Finn nods soberly. “I’m very proud of you.” He cracks up a little. “Yeah, maybe I could be a teacher. I don’t think I’d suck at it, if I had enough whiteboards.”

“Also vests. Don’t forget you need a good supply of vests.”

“Well, if I enter the education program, I’ll ask for some for Christmas, ok?” Finn gives Kurt a brilliant smile, and his body relaxes. “And, thanks, man.”

“I’ll make sure you’re the best-dressed teacher in America,” Kurt grins. “And it’s free of charge. All part of the service.”

 

Finn and Kurt wake up early to eat breakfast with their parents, even though Finn’s also scheduled for a breakfast with the coaches and other prospective players a little later in the morning. Finn never passes up a breakfast. After breakfast, they all get on the university’s shuttle and take it to campus, where they’re split into three groups again: players, siblings, and parents. Kurt gives Finn a rueful smile as he’s herded off with the tweens and one dull-looking older boy and Finn gives him an apologetic wave as they round the corner.

The breakfast spread is more expansive than the one at the hotel, and Finn’s glad for his infinite capacity for food as he shovels bacon and a wide array of little pastry things onto his plate. He finds Jamie in line for food and the two of them sit together at a table close to the podium.

After a short while, a stocky guy that absurdly reminds Finn slightly of Coach Tenaka approaches the podium and speaks into the microphone. “Hey. Can everybody hear me?” When there’s a chorus of ‘yes,’ from around the room, he continues speaking. “I’m Coach Meredith, the head coach of the Wisconsin Badgers!”

There’s an assortment of cheers and some whoops mixed in with a scattering of applause. A room full of high school boys with unfettered access to pastries is an enthusiastic place to be.

“We’re all real excited to have you here.” The coach talks for a little while about their program, and how they’ve been doing this year, and how great Wisconsin is, that they like to have fun while they win, and a bunch of other stuff that Finn doesn’t totally understand, probably because he’s eating more food.

“So we’re going to let you go on a tour of the campus, along with any of your siblings, and sit in on a real college class.” He claps, and now he suddenly reminds Finn of Mr. Schue. “I’ll see you at lunch!”

As the boys turn back to their breakfast plates, Jamie looks at Finn and says, “Well, he’s enthusiastic.”

Finn laughs. “Yeah, I was just thinking how he reminds me of my glee coach.”

Jamie puts down his fork, which is speared through an impressive piece of baked egg. “Glee? Like singing? Get outa here!”

“Uh, yeah,” Finn answers, looking a little nervous. “Is that weird or something?”

“Probably,” Jamie laughs, “but hey, I’m in theatre, so I can’t say anything.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously,” Jamie shrugs. “I got into it my freshman year. They had open auditions for _Oliver_ and I auditioned.”

“That’s cool,” Finn says around a mouthful of raspberry pastry. “You got a part?”

“Artful Dodger,” Jamie says, with a self-satisfied raise of his eyebrows. “After that, man, I was _hooked_. I mean, don’t get me wrong, football takes priority over theatre, so I’m usually in stuff more in the spring term, but, yeah. I love it.”

“Singing and everything?”

“Yeah, singing and everything.”

“We went to the show choir Nationals last year,” Finn says, proudly. “And we’re going back this year if I have anything to say about it. We even write original songs to perform.”

“That’s really neat, Finn,” Jamie says, impressed. “Look at us renaissance men here.” He smiles at Finn, who grins broadly in return. The two of them finish up their breakfast just in time for the announcement that it’s time to go on the tour of the campus.

They’re directed out into the lobby, where Finn and Jamie stand until Kurt makes his way over to them. “I think your breakfast was better than ours,” Kurt complains. “And yes, Finn, I brought myself gloves. And a hat. And a scarf.”

“My brother is a reptile,” Finn explains to Jamie. “It’s very sad, but we love him anyway.”

“Well, ok then,” Jamie nods, because, of course Kurt’s a reptile. How can anyone argue with that?

“I’m going to freeze in New York next year. Freeze, freeze, freeze,” Kurt mutters.

“Are you going to college in New York?” Jamie asks Kurt.

Kurt nods. “Hopefully Marymount Manhattan, but the auditions aren’t until February. Hunter or Pace otherwise.”

“So, Jamie does theatre!” Finn exclaims.

“Oh?” Kurt looks at Jamie. “What’s your range?”

“Baritone,” Jamie says. “Not where I started out, but that seems to be where I’ve settled. And yeah, Javert or Don Quixote, since I know you’re gonna ask.”

“They don’t write much for my range,” Kurt says lightly. “I’m going to have to create a few roles, I think.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your range?” Jamie seems genuinely curious, and Finn has a warm feeling in his chest as he watches the two of them swap technical talk. Finn loves performing, but all of this stuff about range goes over his head. He just shows up and sings what they tell him to sing.

“Contratenor,” Kurt smiles. “High F.”

“You’re shitting me,” Jamie says, no harshness in his words. “Get outta town with your high F!”

“So I mostly sing girls’ songs,” Kurt continues. “I can go low, but I have to work on the higher notes.”

“Finn, I had no idea you had this kinda talent in the family,” Jamie says, shaking his head. “And here I was going on about damn Artful Dodger. What’s your favorite piece?” He turns his attention back to Kurt.

Kurt casts an apologetic look at Finn. “That I’ve actually performed? Rachel and I sang ‘For Good’ back in May when we, well. Broke into the Gershwin.”

Jamie’s jaw drops. “Ok, I’m impressed. Finn, if football doesn’t work out for me, I’m giving Kurt here a call and he and I are gonna put together a show.”

Finn’s about to answer when a group of people identifying themselves as being from admissions comes and starts to direct them down the sidewalk and point out various buildings and campus landmarks. Finn, Jamie, and Kurt manage to keep up with the group and still continue their conversation about various performances, dream roles, and the kind of competition Finn and Kurt think they’ll be up against at the upcoming show choir competitions. When Finn and Kurt’s phones go off almost at the same time, Kurt whips his phone out and then dissolves into giggles.

“Check your phone, Finn,” he insists, already typing a reply.

“Aww,” Finn says. “Well, aren’t they pitiful without us!”

“Who’s pitiful?” Jamie asks, trying to grab a peek at Finn’s phone. Finn turns it towards him.

“That’s my girlfriend, Rachel, and Kurt’s boyfriend, Puck.”

“Are they related?” Jamie asks.

“No, just Jewish,” Kurt laughs.

“Ah, blended family,” Jamie says, with a dramatic nod. “I understand.”

“Puck said Rina was only moderately disturbed when he dropped the atheist-bomb on her,” Kurt comments off-handedly. “Sorry, Rina’s his mom.”

Jamie whistles and shakes his head, while Finn types out a quick response on his phone, which sends him into a fit of laughter. “Team America,” Finn explains, showing Kurt and Jamie his response.

“Ok, you guys? Hilarious,” Jamie says. “Seriously.”

“We have a lot of practice,” Kurt says dryly, but he’s grinning.

“It’s a Munster thing,” Finn nods. “Which, oh, I guess it doesn’t make any sense to you, but it’s something Puck says all the time.”

“He’s Herman. I’m Eddie,” Kurt elucidates, pointing to Finn and then himself.

“Like that old TV show?”

Kurt nods. “Yes.”

Jamie looks at Finn appraisingly, then laughs. “Herman’s the Frankenstein looking one, isn’t he?”

“Frankenteen,” Finn says, raising his head. “That’s me!”

More of the red-shirted admissions people appear, this time dividing them into groups as they go along, and their group is prodded into the back of a freshman level English class, or so they are assured. Kurt grumbles about avoiding this being the whole reason he’s suffering through AP English, and the students in the classroom look equally unimpressed. Kurt and Finn’s phone start jangling with emails after awhile, and Kurt takes his out, raising an amused eyebrow as he reads, then sliding it back into his pocket. The class is covering some old short story, or something, and even Kurt seems bored, but at least the professor is enthusiastic.

When the class finally ends, Kurt turns to Finn. “I think Puck recorded all of glee for us.”

“Awesome. He got the girls’ song?” Finn smiles. “Rachel said she’d get Puck to record it. I wanted to be there to hear it. I don’t like missing her performances.” His smile turns a little sad as he glances down at Kurt, but brightens right back up before he looks in Jamie’s direction. “So, you wanna take a look at what we do in our glee club?”

“Sure,” Jamie says. “We’ll just sit here for a minute and watch, then head on to lunch?”

Finn looks at Kurt, who is visibly shivering. “Uh, let’s go to lunch first, watch it there. Reptile,” he adds, with a jerk of his thumb in Kurt’s direction.

“Also, I think Mike did ballet,” Kurt says, casting a grateful look in Finn’s direction as they walk into the building where lunch is being held.

“Ballet?” Jamie says, looking impressed. “Multi-talented bunch. Tell me about them while we walk.”

Between the two of them, Kurt and Finn explain more or less who most of the glee club is, and how they’re all interconnected. The luncheon is plated, not a buffet, and Kurt tugs them towards one corner, where Burt, Carole, and Mr. Robins are already around a table.

“Have a good morning, boys?” Carole asks.

“Cold morning,” Kurt shivers, stripping off his outerwear and draping his coat over the back of the seat. “Yourselves?”

“Interesting information,” Burt says with a nod. “Lots about the NCAA and academics.”

“Puck sent us a video of today’s glee meeting,” Finn says. “You mind if me and Kurt and Jamie sit and watch?”

“Go ahead,” Carole urges them. “We can watch them, too, after you three!”

The boys take their seats, Kurt leaning in from the right and Jamie from the left to watch the screen as Finn presses play. When the jazz band stars playing the intro to “White Rabbit,” Finn grins and says, “Well, that’s outside of their box, alright!”

Jamie looks at him quizzically, and Kurt jumps in. “Mr. Schue has a love of... themes. Also vests and whiteboards, but that’s neither here nor there. This week’s them is getting outside our musical box, which apparently is _not_ four-sided.” He shrugs. “Math isn’t my thing.”

“It’s really not,” Finn adds.

“Sounds like fun,” Jamie says. “You guys seem really close. Our theatre group is like that.”

“Next year is going to be hard, probably,” Kurt admits candidly, calling up the next video, of Mike and his ballet solo. “Oh, my. Mike.”

“Wow, that’s...” Jamie shakes his head. “How long are that dude’s legs, anyway? And does he actually have bones?”

“We’re pretty sure the answer is no, he doesn’t.” Kurt shakes his head. “Oh, look. Bat-guitar.”

“Yeah, he told me to let everybody know he was available for that again.”

“Bat-guitar?”

“Puck just sort of... appears, when people need a guitar,” Kurt explains. “He started calling it bat-guitar. Like the bat-signal. Except he’s totally Robin.”

Jamie looks thoroughly confused, and Finn claps him on the shoulder. “I’ll try to get you caught up on all of that later. If you and I are gonna be on a team together, you’ll probably need to know all this craziness.”

“We’re not crazy,” Kurt sniffs. “More like scary.”

“Terrifying?” Finn offers.

“Moderately so,” Kurt concedes.

They get down to the serious business of eating. Once the meal is over, they’re split into groups again, this time the siblings going with the parents, and Kurt gives Finn a quick hug and shakes Jamie’s hand again. “I’m heading back home this afternoon,” Kurt explains. “I have to lead a PFLAG meeting tomorrow and I can’t miss too many of my dual enrollment classes. Finn, if I leave anything, please bring it home.” Kurt waves as they head out.

“Drive safe, dude,” Finn says, his voice stern. “And let us know when you get there.”

“It’ll be late,” Kurt warns. “But if you insist.”

“Yeah, I insist,” Finn insists.

“Worry-wart,” Kurt teases him affectionately. “Bye, Finn. Nice to meet you, Jamie!”

“You, too, Kurt,” Jamie says, smiling. “God willing and the creek don’t rise, we’ll be running into each other at some point next year.” Kurt disappears through the doorway with the parents, pulling back on his winter outerwear.

“Interesting cat, your brother,” Jamie says. “I like him.”

“Yeah, I like him, too,” Finn says. “Anyway, he tolerates me, which is a tough thing to do. He’s taught me a _lot_.”

Different red-shirted people appear to usher them to their next destination, a long talk about the practice schedule and nutrition expectations on the team. Finn thinks that Kurt would be impressed by the nutrition talk, but figures that they’re getting a completely different topic. After the nutrition talk finally ends, they’re sent into a locker room to suit up for a practice workout, no pads.

The t-shirts are kind of funny, a big badger on the front, and Finn can’t help but sing “mushroom, mushroom” to himself, hoping that particular joke will never get old. Finn thinks he’d like to be a badger, at least for four years or so. Then they are all herded onto the field and split into groups for their workout. Finn’s in a group with two other prospective quarterbacks and four or five tight ends. The coaching staff gives them directions for a basic drill, and yeah, it’s one that Finn can run in his sleep, but he can kinda understand why they want to watch them do it.

Finn and the rest of his group run through the drill once, twice, with no problem, but by the third go, there’s some grumbling that gives way to full blown bitching from some of the other guys.

“What’s the problem?” Finn asks, mildly.

“This is a lame basic drill, dude,” one of the other prospective quarterbacks complains. “Don’t know what they do where you came from, but we did this in fucking _middle_ school.”

One of the tight end hopefuls snorts, “I know. This is _so_ gay.”

Finn’s eyes narrow and his mouth goes into a small, tight line. “Excuse me?”

“Excuse you, what?” The tight end asks, looking confused. “I said it’s gay.”

“No,” Finn says, firmly, but calmly. “No, it’s not. You’re using that word incorrectly and how you’re using it is offensive.”

“What?” the tight end asks again, his confusion not remotely feigned.

“Saying that the drill is gay,” Finn explains. “That’s offensive. Using ‘gay’ as another way to say something is lame, that’s not cool.” Finn stands up to his full height and he can feel that warm sensation that he’s started secretly labeling ‘the leadership qualities feeling’ suffuse him. “You guys know U of W isn’t gonna put up with that, right? I don’t know if you actually talked to the recruiter yourself or not, but Mr. Cosson, the guy who talked to me, told me that they’re making a _point_ to cut down on homophobia on this campus.” Finn eyeballs them all sternly. “You’re gonna wreck your career before you have one if you don’t watch it.”

One of the other tight ends is looking at him curiously, and when he speaks, there’s no challenge in his voice, just pure inquisitiveness. “Are you gay?”

Finn shakes his head. “Nah. I’ve got a girlfriend. Of course, I’ve also got a brother, and _he’s_ gay...and he’s also way cooler than these lame drills.” Several of the guys laugh over that, and the tight end who called the drill ‘gay’ nods his agreement.

“A’ight man,” the tight end says. “I didn’t realize it was such a thing. Sorry.”

“No problem, man,” Finn says. “Just don’t do it again.” He offers a friendly smile that the tight end can’t help but return, and the rest of the practice passes without incident.

 

Dinner that night is a plentiful buffet, followed by another splitting up of the groups for talks on an array of topics. Carole chooses to attend the talk on balancing academics and athletics, Burt wanders off into one on financial aid and the collegiate athlete, and Finn finds himself walking with Jamie into a lecture on having a life outside of football, because for the first time, Finn is starting to think that such a thing might be possible in college, maybe even more so than in high school. The concept makes him nearly giddy and he enjoys the talk immensely.

After Finn shares a fist-bumped farewell with Jamie, he and his parents return to their respective rooms, where Finn finds himself perusing the room service menu. He sends his mom a quick text.

_ok if i get room srvce? starving!_

She quickly responds and Finn can practically hear her eyes rolling from across the hallway.

_You boys I swear. Just keep it reasonable._

Finn’s not sure if their idea of reasonable is the same, but he settles on a burger and fries, and slice of New York cheesecake, which he eats first and sort of makes him miss Kurt. When Finn is done eating, he checks the clock and finds that it’s already 11, so too late to call Rachel, but not late enough to expect a check-in from Kurt yet. Finn feels restless, like he has places to be and things to do, but really, there’s nothing. The constant activity of the day, the practice, and the ongoing banter with Jamie all worked together to keep Finn’s mind occupied and his hands busy, but now he has no one to talk to, nothing to work on, no tasks that must be completed before the next day, and Finn is surprised to find that, for maybe the first time ever, his brain won’t just shut off.

He turns on the TV and spends an hour flipping through channels, trying to quiet the ongoing, but not entirely audible, interior monologue. Eventually, Finn’s brain is still enough that he can fall asleep, which he does, phone by his head so he doesn’t miss Kurt checking in.

The phone blares out Kurt’s ringtone, which Rachel most recently set as a portion of “Born This Way,” and Finn startles half-awake, sliding the phone on without a conscious awareness of doing so.

“‘Lo?” he mumbles. “Kurt?”

“The one and only.” Kurt sounds surprisingly awake and almost chipper, given the hour and how far he’s driven.

“There safe?” Finn asks, rolling over to look at the clock. “Make good time?”

“Yes, and I did,” Kurt responds, a hint of something in his tone that Finn can’t quite identify. “Can you do me a favor and say hello to Rachel’s dad? So Dad knows I really was at the Berrys’.”

“Uh, sure?”

“Thanks. Hang on.” There’s a shuffle as the phone is passed.

“Hello, Finn?” It’s Leroy, sounding more awake than Finn but less so than Kurt.

“Hey, Mister Leroy,” Finn says, trying to sound alert. “Kurt all in one piece? I can tell our parents that he’s there and unharmed?”

“All in one piece and he even stopped at Pat’s to get us some doughnuts,” Leroy affirms. “You get some sleep now, all right?”

“‘K,” Finn mutters. “Tell Rach I love her. Tell Kurt I said ‘night.”

“Will do. Bye.” With that, the phone clicks off. Finn is almost back asleep when he remembers that Burt’s probably awake worrying, so he shoots a quick text.

_Kurt called, there safe, talked to mr berry_

Finn is asleep again before he even receives Burt’s text of acknowledgement.

 

Tuesday starts nearly identically to Monday, minus Kurt. Finn, Burt, and Carole eat breakfast together at the hotel, then take the shuttle back to campus, where Burt and Carole are hustled off to some sort of activity (Finn thinks he heard something about chants and cheers, so maybe it’s a class on how to be a Badger fan) and Finn eats his second breakfast with Jamie, another quarterback hopeful, and a couple of the tight ends from the day before. Finn talks about glee club and how he hopes they’ll win Nationals this year, because he’s not embarrassed about what he does outside of football. Nobody says anything disparaging.

Practice today goes smoothly. Again, there’s no disparaging remarks, no repeat of yesterday’s offhanded ‘gay’ comment, and the two other prospective quarterbacks spend a good part of the practice asking Finn questions about calling plays in the huddle and what to do when there’s tension between other players on the team, and by the end of practice, Finn’s feeling pretty good about himself.

At lunch, they run out of chairs at Finn’s table and some of the guys pull extra chairs up. This time, Finn listens more than he talks, encouraging the others to share their stories, talk about other schools they’ve applied to, girl trouble. Finn shows them a picture of Rachel on his phone, but glosses over the topic of where’s she’s going to school and if they’ll keep up a long distance thing.

Towards the end of lunch, Finn’s phone beeps, and he pulls it out again to see the text from Kurt: _I survived_

Finn laughs loudly. “What’s funny?” Jamie asks, and Finn shows him the text. Jamie looks confused.

“Kurt runs a PFLAG group at McKinley,” Finn explains. “That’s ‘Parents, Family, and Friends of Lesbians and Gays,’ guys,” he says, offhandedly, to the rest of the table. “Anyway, he took advantage of me being here to do the lecture on safe sex.” Finn rolls his eyes. “I love the little dude, but seriously, some information is _not_ ok to share with your brother.”

There’s a burst of laughter from the table, though a few of the players go a little still and quiet, like they aren’t sure how to react.

Finn shakes his head at them. “It’s ok to laugh, guys. He’s _my_ brother and I think it’s pretty damn funny. I also think I am _so_ glad I’m not there right now!” Everyone loosens up after that, and the rest of lunch continues pleasantly.

After lunch, some of the admissions red-shirts come in and start trying to break everybody up into groups by their academic interests. Finn hasn’t really give his academic interests much more thought than he originally told Mr. Cosson, helping people, but when one of the admissions guys asks him if he’d thought about his major, the first thing Finn blurts out is, “I think I might want to be a music teacher.”

The admissions guy nods and directs him to a group of potential education majors, which seems to mostly consist of guys who want to teach history or Spanish or something like that, though one of them wants to do Kinesiology, whatever that is, and one impossibly huge lineman confesses he’d really like to teach Special Ed, which makes Finn decide on the spot that he likes the guy.

“Finn Hudson,” Finn says, offering the lineman his hand.

“Doug McEvert,” returns the lineman. “Music?”

Finn shrugs. “Yeah. Why not?”

Doug shrugs back, friendly-like. “Why the hell not?”

Once they’ve all be shunted off to different rooms, a representative from the College of Education comes to talk to them about the program. Finn tries hard to pay attention, but he’s never really learned well from lectures, and his mind keeps wandering to next year and what it might be like to actually go to school here, to play with these guys he’s met over the last couple of days. The more Finn thinks about it, the more he starts to believe it could actually happen, and the more he really _wants_ it to happen.

Which, maybe he should pay better attention to the college lady talking up there, if he actually wants to give the music teacher thing a shot, come to think of it. He makes himself sit up and follow along for the rest of the talk, though he’s admittedly relieved when the talking part is over and they get to head out for one last round of practice, this time with the actual Wisconsin players.

The team is huge, way bigger than Finn realized, but they’re losing two of their quarterbacks at the end of the year and another is a junior, and that leaves Finn feeling pretty good about his chances of actually getting some field time his first year. The coaches split them into two teams, and Finn’s pleased to have Jamie and Doug on his team. The teams are a mix of Wisconsin’s first-string players and the prospects, and Finn’s excited when he gets to run the first possession.

They barely manage a third-down conversion after receiving the kick-off, but on the next play, Finn evades a sack and carries the ball for a first down, so he’s feeling pretty awesome and on his game. Three plays later, Finn makes a long pass that connects with Jamie, who’s in the end zone. Finn manages, just barely, not to leap in the air with an enthusiastic fist pump. Instead, he just says, “Yes!” to himself, quietly, and gives Jamie a thumbs up. Nothing quite as impressive happens for the remainder of the scrimmage, at least for Finn, but their team comes out well ahead at the end, and he, Jamie, and Doug are all grinning happily when they take off their helmets at the end of it.

One of the first-string offensive linemen hollers, “Hey, nice completion, kid!” and Finn feels that rush of pride over doing something, anything, well enough for it to matter to someone else. They hit the showers and get changed, then the coaching staff steers them to the large room they were all in the first night, where Coach Meredith does a little spiel about how academics is important at Wisconsin and how they’re expected to be student-athletes, not athletes who sometimes show up for class. Finn’s down with that, because the idea of getting a pass on what you do on the field instead of in the classroom reminds him uncomfortably of Vocal Adrenaline, and really, that’s not a feeling Finn’s keen on.

“Now, I know some of you spoke to recruiters about the anti-bullying initiative we’re working on here at University of Wisconsin. We started looking into the issue last year when a lot of those suicides hit the news. Sports is traditionally one of the bastions of homophobia and bullying behavior, and frankly, we’d like Wisconsin to get some attention as an antidote to that. And the class that enters in 2012 will be the first under our newly-authored initiative. One of the things it calls for is self-policing as well as training during pre-season.”

Jamie elbows Finn in the side. “You’re already ahead of the curve on that one.”

Coach Meredith continues after clearing his throat. “Now, I know none of you are going to remove yourself from contention over an issue like this, but I do want you to think about what you can bring to the climate at Wisconsin.” He looks out at the forty-odd boys. “I’ll take some questions about this.”

A big redheaded dude on the far side of the room raises his hand. “I thought football was usually pretty don’t ask, don’t tell,” he says, without any real malice, “but does this mean we’re probably gonna have some gay dudes on the team?”

Finn leans over and whispers to Jamie, “What he doesn’t know is he probably already _has_ gay dudes on his team. Statistically speaking.” Jamie snorts. “Seriously, we had, like, three or something.”

“Don’t ask, don’t tell is gone from the military even,” Coach Meredith offers with a chuckle. “There aren’t any athletes on a college football team that are currently out. That’s not to say they aren’t gay. In an ideal world, a gay athlete shouldn’t have to hide part of himself.”

Finn nods, because Coach Meredith is right, but then he frowns, because seriously? This world is _so_ not ideal. And that sucks. Also, it gives him an idea for a question.

Finn raises his hand. “So, do you guys have PFLAG or a GSA or something here?”

“That’s a great question. On campus, there’s a group called, I believe, the Queer Student Alliance.” Coach Meredith looks around the room. “For those of you that don’t know, a GSA is a Gay-Straight Alliance, and PFLAG is Parents, Friends, and Family of Lesbians and Gays.” He doesn’t stumble over the names or forget what anything stands for, or look uncomfortable. “We don’t have a formal partnership or anything with that group, though.”

“Is it ok if the players go to the meetings?” Finn asks.

“Sure, we encourage our players to be active in aspects of campus life that interest them. You have a particular interest in this area?”

Finn smiles, a little crooked grin. “Yes sir, you could say that. My brother runs a PFLAG group at our school and honestly, I kind of don’t know what I’d do at this point without somebody around to remind me how fabulous I’m _not_ ” He shrugs a little. “Anyway, he made me do the straight ally talk, so I have some experience with that.”

Coach Meredith chuckles a little at the comment about not being fabulous. “That’s great to hear, and a perfect example of what we’re trying to achieve. We don’t have to be a gay team, we’re just trying to stamp out bullying.”

Satisfied with what he’s heard, Finn’s content to slump back in his chair and let some other prospects ask questions. He casts a look over to Doug, trying to gauge his reaction to the conversation. Doug seems to notice what Finn’s looking for, and gives that friendly shrug from earlier. “People are people,” Doug mutters. Finn nods, because Doug nailed it.

After the talk is over, they’re released back into the wild...or, in this case, back into the room where the parents are waiting for them. Carole and Burt find Finn first, and Finn introduces them to Doug. Burt grins up ( _way_ up) at Doug and says, “Well, you’re a big one, aren’t ya!” Doug laughs, which is good, because he _is_ a big one. Finn’s pretty sure Doug would make Karofsky look small, and for a minute, he imagines Doug and Karofsky standing side by side, probably looking about how he and Kurt look when they stand next to each other. Only less like Munsters.

“We were just talking about going over to that pizza place for dinner, honey,” Carole says, beaming at Finn. “Ian’s on State Street.” She turns to address Doug. “Why don’t you see if your parents want to come? I think the Robins are going to.”

Doug nods. “I’ll need to see how my sister’s doing, but if she’s hanging in there, they’ll probably like that. Thanks!” He excuses himself and makes his way across the room in search of his family, a task made easier by the fact that the crowd completely parts in front of him as he walks. Finn sees Doug put his arm around a tired-looking blonde woman, presumably his mom, who’s holding a wispy pale-haired girl by the hand. The girl doesn’t look too much younger than Finn and Doug, but she’s moving her head around to the side in a rhythmic pattern, swatting at Doug when he gives her a hug. Doug suddenly makes a lot more sense, Finn thinks.

After a few minutes of talking with his parents, Doug reappears, smiling. “Mom says Cara’s holding up ok, and they’re all pretty hungry, so yeah, we’re in!” His face grows a little more serious. “Just a heads up, though, Cara--my sister--she’s pretty profoundly autistic, so sometimes she has a hard time going out places. She’s been doing _great_ on this trip, but...”

“Oh, that’s fine, honey. I think I met your mom earlier. McEvert?” At Doug’s nod, she continues. “Yes, we met earlier this afternoon. I’m sure we can ask for a quieter corner if that would help.”

“Yeah, thanks, Mrs. Hudson,” Doug says, looking relieved. “I’ll go let them know.”

The three families make their polite farewells from the larger group. Finn receives no few high fives and fist bumps from the other players, and he can’t help but wondering who, if anybody, he’ll see next year. If _he’ll_ be here next year. Tonight won’t provide any answers to those questions, though; pizza, however, is definitely attainable.

 

At dinner, Finn realizes he hasn’t talked to Rachel all day, so he pulls out his phone and sends her a text: _busy day 2day but missing u!_

_miss u too! studying w/ kurt & noah :)_

Finn smiles when he reads Rachel’s response, and excuses himself from the table for a few minutes to dial Kurt’s phone.

Kurt picks up after the first ring. “Hello, little brother.” There’s a fumbling sound and then Kurt’s voice is farther away. “There, you’re on speaker now.”

“Hey, dude,” Puck says.

“Hi!” Rachel calls out.

“Hey everybody!” Finn says. “Having fun studying?”

“Always,” Kurt answers dryly, and Finn can hear Puck laughing.

“It’s very companionable,” Rachel says.

“Yeah, I bet,” Finn snorts. “That’s totally the first word I think of when I think of Kurt and Puck. Companionable.”

“And how was your day?” Kurt asks, almost loudly. “I bet you didn’t have to walk around today in the cold.”

“Well, we did have two practices outside,” Finn says, “but I didn’t think it was too cold or anything. Day was pretty awesome, actually. We’re having dinner with Jamie and his dad, and with this guy Doug, who I swear to God, makes Karofsky look _Casey-sized_.”

“I don’t believe you, man,” Puck asserts immediately. “Not possible.”

“I’ll get my mom to take a picture of me with him,” Finn protests. “You’ll see. He’s huge! Really cool, though. He wants to be a special ed teacher. I think you guys would like him. Oh, Kurt, before I forget, Jamie wanted to see the video of ‘Pretending’ from Invitations. Would you email that to me if you’ve got a minute? Oh, and he also says he’d like proof of that high F, but, you know.” Finn laughs.

“Sure,” Kurt responds. “I have my laptop, I’ll send it over in a minute.”

“You’re the best brother I’ve ever had, man.”

“Thank you,” Kurt says, and Finn can practically hear his eyes rolling.

“Hey, how were your practices, dude,” Puck breaks back in. “Cool?”

“Yeah, they were awesome! We scrimmaged with the team this afternoon, and I had a really nice completion. I also didn’t get sacked, which, honestly, I think is the bigger deal, ‘cause I really didn’t want to look like a jackass out there!”

There’s laughter on the other end. “So it’s good?” Kurt asks.

“Yeah,” Finn says, and as he says it, he realizes that it really is good. “It’s awesome up here. I feel, I dunno, like I _belong_ here. It’s kinda the right place for me, I think.” Finn sighs happily. “Oh! And guess what? I sorta made up my mind about what program I might do!”

“Yeah?”

“Music education! How about _that_ one, Kurt?” Finn grins and he knows Puck and Kurt can probably hear it through the phone.

“I’ll start looking for vests next week,” Kurt promises, voice full of mirth.

“Just, no knit ones, dude,” Finn warns.

“Ruin my fun,” Kurt sighs dramatically. “Maybe Hannah could take up knitting and make you one.”

“Well, that’s different. I mean, if _Hannah_ makes it,” Finn laughs loudly into the phone.

“Yeah, that wasn’t one of the kind of lessons she wanted, K,” Puck laughs, and Finn’s pretty sure from the resulting giggles that Puck probably poked Kurt in the side or tickled him or something.

“Alas. I’ll have to buy you vests that actually fit.”

“Yeah, that would be helpful,” Finn replies. “Anyway, I’ve probably gotta get back to dinner. Mom looks like she’s about to force-feed Jamie another slice of pizza. That’s for sending that video, Kurt.”

“No problem. Bye, Finn. See you tomorrow.”

“See you Thursday, dude.”

“Bye Finn, see you Thursday!”

“Oh, Rachel! Yeah, sorry about all the football talk,” Finn apologizes, feeling a little embarrassed, because for a minute there, he forgot Kurt and Puck were with her. “I’ll see you on Thursday, ok? You guys be sweet to her, you got it?”

“Of course. Have fun!”

“Will do. Later!” he promises, before hanging up and returning to the table, where Carole is, in fact, scolding Jamie for not eating more, because “You’re just so skinny! How can you play football when you’re that skinny?”

“Kurt’s gonna send the video,” Finn says, rescuing Jamie from Carole’s clutches. “No high F, but I’m still proud of it.”

“That’s cool,” Jamie nods. “It’s awesome that you guys wrote that.”

“Yeah, well,” Finn mumbles, pleased, but not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “It was mostly Puck, anyway. Oh, before I forget! Can you take a picture of me and Doug? Nobody back home believes he’s as big as I said.”

“No problem. Hey, Doug?” Jamie calls across the table. “Come stand over here by Finn so I can get your picture!” Doug complies and Finn laughs at the picture of the two of them.

“I’m not used to being the little guy,” he grins. “Even the linemen at McKinley aren’t any taller than me. Outweigh me, sure, but not out-height me!’ He sends the picture to both Kurt and Puck with a little messages that says _told you so_.


	4. Episode 3x10b

